38 - Moving On

When I travel, I oscillate between no eye contact, no words, no interaction whatsoever with strangers, and sharing my life story. There is usually no medium. But I was recently on a trip with my daughter, and I think that brought about a middle ground.

We woke up at the 'Colon of Dawn', a time period my daughter shared. Dawn is early. Butt crack of dawn is super early. Colon of dawn is that period of dawn that is yet to be considered morning. At all. It is still technically night. The bars are still open and full of partiers.

That is when we had to wake up to catch our flight.

And to make the trip a little more painful, our flight had been rerouted. In the opposite direction.

So we had to fly east to catch a flight that would eventually take us west. 

And the first two-hour flight was uncomfortable, but nothing compared to the second, eight-hour flight.

Being stuffed in a flying cylinder, shoulder to shoulder, thousands of miles above the earth, with no escape. 

Cue a panic attack. 

But then I started talking to the young man next to me and things began to look up.

Although he looked young (honestly, at my age, anyone under the age of 35 looks like they could be my kid), he had experienced a lot. He was heading home to Guam, to go back to his family. I was thrilled for him!

He had been in the United States for two years, at least part of it working at Kroger. I was excited to hear that part! My father had worked there and I grew up running around the stores.

He talked a lot about his love of Guam and now I want to visit. And we talked a bit about the people he was leaving behind and I felt the sadness he portrayed.

I'm not sure what brought up the subject, but I mentioned my website. He wanted to look it up, which, quite honestly, surprised me. He had in-flight wifi so sat and read while I pretended to do other things.

He continued, story after story, scrolling down to read and occasionally nodding his head. It was both nerve wracking and exhilarating at the same time!

After a while, we talked again and he said how much he enjoyed it and looked forward to reading more. I was overcome.

I often feel tiny about my work and my voice. I don’t often feel that what I say matters. But at that moment, I felt larger than life.

I love what I do. I love sharing my journey, hoping to touch people in some way. And it's been exciting seeing the places that people are reading my words: 34 countries outside of the United States, 269 cities world-wide, and at least one person has read while traveling above the Pacific Ocean. It blows my mind!

But I don't often get the opportunity to see the faces of those people. I don't get to hear their stories.

And so the horrible flight, the one that caused so much anxiety? It ended up being the best flight ever! And I will always remember the young man who was so kind and sweet. Thank you, Philbert (I hope I spelled your name right!) This next thing is something that carried me through some really hard times. I chose to move on, and I’m really proud of you for making the same choice. This is for you:

Steven Furtick, Moving On

"So Jacob, over her tomb, the dead thing, he set up a pillar. He didn’t deny the pain of the loss. … He’ll never be the same again. He buried her. But he moved on. …

That’s the new you!

That’s the part of you that abuse couldn’t destroy, that neglect couldn’t negate, that hard times couldn’t break, that people couldn’t steal, that the devil couldn’t take away, that trouble couldn’t change!

It’s time for you, Israel, for you, child of God, to move on! Move on! Stop focusing on what you lost, and move on with what you got left!”

Philbert, I raise a glass to you this holiday season and say, “Cheers for moving on!”

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39 - A Shopping Story

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37 - A Small Thanksgiving Message